


Scary Stories

by deadminecraftfandoms



Category: Hermitcraft RPF, Yandere high school
Genre: Enby iskall, enby xisuma because i want to, grian doesn't know everyone else's scary stories are fake, he ends up spilling the beans, i still don't know how to tag, screepy swedish folktales
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:16:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27150301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadminecraftfandoms/pseuds/deadminecraftfandoms
Summary: It's Grian's turn to tell a scary story, and he may have dipped a bit into reality for this one. Is he telling the truth, or is it just a really, really elaborate lie?
Comments: 13
Kudos: 319





	Scary Stories

**Author's Note:**

> This is based off of an AU I found on Tumblr from detroitbecomemerlin, enjoy!

The Hermits were gathered by a campfire.

They were doing the standard campfire things, you know, s’mores, fighting over who has to sit in the smoke because it was a bit windy that night, arguing over what the stars looked like. Was that a creeper face, as Doc insisted, or a hefty stack of diamonds, as Keralis refused to give up?

“You know what we’re missing?” Ren brought up, biting into what was probably his fifteenth s’more. “Scary. Stories.”

“Ooh!” Iskall immediately sat up from their position on the soft ground. “I’ll go first!”

Everyone turned off any lights they may have had as per common campfire storytelling courtesy. Iskall was handed a flashlight, which they turned on, holding it beneath their face to create the shadows effect, the nearly pitch black background of the jungle at night enhancing the sight.

“Let me tell you the tale of the sacrificial beggar child,” the redstoner began, wiggling the fingers of the hand that wasn’t holding the flashlight. “And it absolutely, one hundred percent happened, my dudes.”

Everyone chuckled.

“They say there was a village in Sweden suffering from a disease. It was wiping out the whole population, and nobody had any idea how to stop it, because, you know, hygiene wasn’t a thing yet, I guess.” Laughter ensued. Iskall grinned evilly and continued, “But it kept on killing. And killing. And there was no cure! So the villagers kept dying. And dying. There was no cure!

“One day, an old, old man from all the way in Finland came to the town, all old and stuff, I dunno, he was probably older than TFC. He told them there wasn’t exactly a cure, no, but there was a way to stop the disease.”

Iskall paused here, their expression dropping to one of the deadpan variety.

“They needed to bury a living thing in the ground.”

Stress shrieked, giggling with False.

The enby had no visible reaction, their face and body now still as a rock.

“The villagers were desperate, and they took his advice. They buried a chicken alive, a rooster, but it did not work! So they tried a goat.”

Iskall made direct eye contact with Doc, their terrifying expression making even the usually fear-inducing cyborg chuckle nervously.

“It did not work either.

“They were growing more and more desperate, the disease was still killing, after all. And they turned their eyes to the beggar child, the orphan boy, alllllll thinking the same. Thing.”

“Oh, dear,” Mumbo muttered, and Xisuma nodded in agreement from next to him. On his other side, Grian kept a straight face.

“They lured the beggar boy to them with bread, for he was poor, he was an orphan.” Iskall barked a laugh. “Capitalism at its finest, I guess. The poorest of them all is the one that deserves death.

“Oh, the poor boy did not know! He took the bait…

“And they dropped him into a hole.”

Keralis gasped dramatically, pretending to faint, falling straight into Bdubs’s arms.

Now Iskall let themself show some emotion: a faint smile, though when paired with the rest of their dead expression, it looked downright psychotic.

“The villagers buried him, shoveling dirt onto him, no mercy, not when he pleaded with them to stop. No. Mercy.

“Some say you can still hear his cries, the beggar child’s cries, horrified by the cruel fate brought upon him.”

They turned off their flashlight, but nothing else signified that they were done with their tale, so the Hermits remained in their silence.

Iskall now chuckled, a dark sound.

“In fact,” they added, “I should know you can still hear the cries.”

“And why is that?” Cub prompted, knowing to play along.

Iskall grinned, their face illuminated by the fire. “Because I was ONE OF THE VILLAGERS!”

Everyone laughed, knowing full well Iskall was, in fact, not one of the villagers, but just an amazing storyteller.

“Alright, alright people, it’s my turn,” Doc said, standing up from the log he was sitting on. Iskall passed him the flashlight, which he turned on, holding it beneath his face as well. “I’ll tell you a story that also, one hundred percent, is completely and absolutely true.” More laughter sounded. “Did I tell you guys about the time I met the ghost of my grandfather?”

Doc told his tale, his obviously fake tale, and Wels went after, telling his own absolutely fake tale about Helsknight actually being his brother and not a clone, but both kept on saying in their stories that it was true, they insisted it was true! Though none of the Hermits were dense enough to fall for it, of course. Right?

“Hey, give me a go!” Grian said, and Wels complied, handing the builder the flashlight.

“Grian, you’re terrible with stories,” Mumbo called out, and everyone nodded in agreement.

“Oh, give this one a chance. It really happened, too,” Grian added, and he basked in the Hermits’ skeptical chuckles. “Now, first off, the world this happened on? Dead. Absolutely dead and gone, so don’t go looking for it. Three people who lived there including me killed it, but I’m getting ahead of myself.”

“Yes, yes, absolutely,” Bdubs mocked loudly, though Grian didn’t really seem to notice he was being mocked.

Grian cleared his throat, the sure sign of someone about to begin the telling of their tale. “Once there was a boy and a girl, high schoolers in Japan of my old server. The boy was a rabbit hybrid named Sam, the girl was named Yuki, not much else was known about her.

“These two, they ruined my life.”

Ooh, the Hermits leaned forward in their seats, ready to hear what Grian had to say.

“Sam, I lived in his house, I was there when he and Yuki began dating. But something was off about Yuki, really off--not that Sam was much better. They both were a bit… er, insane, you see.

“Sam had a huge crush on this other girl, her name was Sookie. He didn’t seem to understand that if a girl doesn’t like you back, you should leave her alone. He was incredibly creepy towards her, refusing to respect her in any way, even when she got a, um, a girlfriend of her own. He tried to poison her girlfriend, but, it, uh. It backfired, it was Sookie who ended up getting poisoned. But that’s another story, I’m going to tell you about Yuki.”

“Oh, yes, please do,” Bdubs continued with his mockery.

Grian chuckled, it sounded a bit darker than what the Hermits were used to. “Yuki, as we figured out a bit too late, was the daughter of a Japanese mafia boss. The Yakuza, they called it. Her father was named Karu, and a bit of a nasty piece of work. One day, Sam and I, we got into a bit of a kerfuffle with Karu…”

Grian trailed off, looking a bit thoughtful. “We ended up having to kill him.”

Mumbo chuckled softly. The builder was getting better at this storytelling thing.

“After that, well, the Yakuza was left without a leader, and you can imagine how angry they were. For our safety--well, Sam and Taurtis’s safety-”

“Taurtis?” Iskall asked aloud. Grian was a bit startled by this interjection, but quickly recovered and provided an explanation.

“Oh, right, Taurtis was our, um, our other roommate, a bit of a dull sort, though he was smart under the right circumstances. But in order for us to be safe, I had to pretend to be Yuki’s father, I had to pretend to be the Yakuza leader.

“Of course, I couldn’t have kept this facade up for too long, Yuki found out eventually. She was angry--really angry. I don’t remember too much, but what I do remember is her killing a police officer, full on beheading him-”

Stress gasped.

“And she killed one of the teachers, too. A sort of killing spree, I guess--a killing spree that ended with her killing herself. Her ghost will forever haunt the school she lived in, killed in, and died in.”  
Grian let that sink in, the story and how his usually light and bubbly voice was dark and solemn while telling this tale. But he wasn’t done yet, no.

He talked about another old teacher, how the teacher had also killed himself in the school, and now his spirit will remain in the school as well.

About the time he and Taurtis got into a bus crash.

About the time he had to pretend to be Taurtis.

About Taurtis being a clone.

About the Toritos.

About Salex.

About Geode.

About the server falling into the void, about him watching everything be destroyed.

Everything he said was horrifying, but in what could be described as a light tone. Everything started sounding ridiculous after a bit, like the builder was pulling out every card he had in his deck and laying it out for the world to see, no matter how stupid it was. There were barely any consistencies in the story, he stuttered quite a bit and stumbled over words.

It was, hands down, the most fake tale to have been ever told.

Eventually Grian gave up, sighing as he realized nobody was taking him seriously. He passed the flashlight on to xB, who had his own entirely true story to tell, and went to go sit back down.

Before xB could begin, though, and before Grian got to his seat, Mumbo noticed the communicator that was not his began to ring. Oh, it was Grian’s. “Grian, your comm’s ringing.”

Grian hurried to grab his communicator, his face lit up at the name of who was calling him. He instantly answered, grabbing his flashlight and walking into the thick jungle where no one would be able to hear him.

The Hermits did hear one thing, though. They heard what the builder had called the person on the comm.

“Hey Taurtis.”

//tomorrow//

“Okay, so there’s an actual guy named Taurtis that Grian knows,” Ren ranted, kicking sand even though this was Treasure Island, he was surrounded by sand, “and he was telling a story about him knowing a guy named Taurtis. This is absolutely insane.”

Iskall nodded. “Y’know, if the story were true, it would explain… a lot, actually.”

“Like what?”

“Well, for one, he’s got leporiphobia, fear of rabbits,” Iskall started putting a chest down on the sand to count on their fingers. “And Sam’s a rabbit hybrid, right? And- and you know how he likes cooking?”

Ren chuckled. “How could I forget, remember that time in Season Six he made a ton of pasta and just handed it out to everyone because he had so much?”

“Oh, yeah,” Iskall laughed. “But he has no knives in his kitchen. None. He cuts his vegetables with axes, who does that?”

“Maybe we could ask Xisuma if xi knows, xi does know the most about his past, doesn’t xi?”

“I mean… I guess it’s worth a shot.”

The two messaged the admin before heading to Lookie Lookie At My Bookie, where Xisuma had responded xi was at.

“Hello there,” the admin greeted upon Iskall and Ren’s arrival. “What can I do for you two?”

“You remember Grian’s ‘spooky’ story?” Iskall asked, making quotation marks with their fingers.

“Mhmm.”

“Ya, he… after telling it he got a call, and while he was walking away to talk in private, we heard him call the caller Taurtis.”

“Y’know, like the friend in the story?” Ren reminded.

Xisuma nodded, tapping xier fingers together. “You want to know if the story was true?”

Ren and Iskall nodded, wordlessly confirming it. X just sighed. “I know about as much as you do, in all honesty. I just know in real life he was one of the only survivors of a server that unfortunately fell into the void, and then he moved to Wynncraft, and then Evo. I have no clue whether or not anything he said was true.”

“Wait.” Ren seemed to remember something, snapping his fingers in recognition. “Didn’t he say at the beginning that the server his story took place in died?”

Iskall nodded. “And he said toward the end he watched it fall into the void, so that part must have been true, right?”

Xisuma shrugged, taking a bite of a cookie. “Most likely. Though if you want to know if he was telling the truth, I suggest, I dunno, actually asking him?”

Ren laughed. “Yeah, that would probably work.”

Okay, well now they have to corner Grian--and now the admin approves and has joined their party.

It wasn’t too long before Cub found out about their investigation, and then Cleo, then Mumbo. They all agreed they would find Grian and politely ask him if his story was true--and no, Cleo, they are  
not going to bash his head in if he doesn’t want to answer. But they at least wanted to satisfy a bit of their curiosity, and that was a harmless request, right?

They found him in the Barge two days later, stocking a few chests with tons of building materials. He was a bit surprised to see this group of six walk into his shop all together, but he also seemed a  
bit glad. “Oh, I have an audience?” he asked, grabbing the stool he was using to reach the top shelves and setting it to the side. “May I interest any of you in some Mystery Boxes?”

“Er, Grian, we wanted to ask you if your story at the campfire the other night was…” Iskall trailed off awkwardly. “If it was, well, true.”

“I mean, you did say it was true at the beginning, but so did everyone else,” Cub added.

Cleo shrugged. “And theirs were obviously fake.”

“And after you told your story, you got a call from Taurtis, the guy in the story,” Ren continued. “And X said your old server fell into the void like the server in the story did.”

“So we were wondering if your tale was true,” Xisuma finished, wringing xier hands in a common display of a nervous habit.

Grian just looked confused, biting his lip as if he were regretting something.

“Wait, were the others not?”


End file.
